


these lullabies never sounded so good until they dripped from your lips like honey wine

by queenhomeslice



Series: Promptober 2020 [14]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music, First Meetings, M/M, Musician Prompto Argentum, Mutual Pining, Nipple Piercings, Promnis - Freeform, Promptober 2020, Thirsty Ignis Scientia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:49:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26994688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice
Summary: Prompto's a small-time musician who does live streams on Instagram. One day, he finally reaches out to firescience22, a fan who's been following him for quite some time.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia
Series: Promptober 2020 [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1937668
Comments: 22
Kudos: 70





	these lullabies never sounded so good until they dripped from your lips like honey wine

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy XV; I am not making money from this work and I do not own the rights to FF in any way. 
> 
> _______  
> Promptober Day 13: Admirer
> 
> Rated M just in case for mentions of masturbation

“Hey guys, Prom here! I’ve been learning a new song, and I wanted to share!” Prompto smiles brightly at his phone, which is on a short tripod on his desk chair, angled up and scooted close to his bed. Prompto picks up his acoustic guitar and settles right in the middle—he'd set his cat Mr. Whiskers on the bed earlier to make sure his followers would be able to see him—shifting this way and that until he’s comfortable. He digs his pick out of his sweatpants pocket and strums the strings, reaching up to tweak and tune, making sure that everything sounds perfect. He idly wonders how many people are tuned in, but follower count never mattered to Prompto. He’s not even trying to get a record deal...he’s just some punk with a guitar, and all he wants to do is share music on the internet. All he wants to do is make people happy. 

He hears the jingle of Mr. Whiskers’ bell behind him. Prompto pays the huge black Maine Coon no mind, but he can’t help but smile when he feels twenty pounds of fur snuggle up behind him. 

“Mr. Whiskers will be joining us for this performance,” laughs Prompto, still idly strumming. “Okay, let’s get started. So you guys know I’m a slut for Dashboard Confessional. And this is kind of an old one, but I’ve loved it ever since Spiderman 2 came out. Don’t judge me, okay!” Prompto grins. “So, uh, anyway,” he says, wide violet-blue eyes staring half-lidded into the camera, “here’s _Vindicated_.” 

________ 

Ignis sits in his office, lights off and door shut. He’s clutching his phone, trying to steel his nerves. His dress shirt is undone at the collar— _two_ buttons. Ignis might as well be nude. But he can’t help the sweat that overflows his pores whenever _chocoboyprom1357_ is going live on Instagram. Ignis is bound to Noctis, has been since he was in single-digit age—meaning, he’s rarely had time to date, or have much of a personal life to himself. He’s had a few flings with some of the glaives—apparently military service makes people really horny, and Ignis is fine with that. No strings attached, pure physical needs being met and nothing more. 

But, when he looks at pictures of Prompto on Instagram, this young man that doesn’t even know he exists, Ignis feels things deep in his heart—and his groin—that he hasn’t felt in a very long time. Ignis wants to wake up to Prompto and make him breakfast and coffee—and then watch the beautiful blond come apart underneath him as Ignis gently fucks him into his mattress. Ignis is hooked on the sound of Prompto’s voice—his speaking voice; his singing voice; his laughter, which sounds like a hundred delicate wind chimes being played all at once. His blond hair is the color of the sun, and the constellations of freckles that dust Prompto’s upper cheeks and nose are patterns that Ignis wants to trace over and over until the end of time. 

One of Prompto’s more recent photos was so scandalous, Ignis thought he was going to faint. A month ago, the chipper musician had posted a shirtless selfie, with a close up on his lean, sculpted chest—and there, pierced through pert, pink nipples that made Ignis’ mouth water, were two tiny silver rings. He’d gotten nipple piercings, and Ignis had had to bite back a groan in Kenny Crow’s diner where he, Noctis, and Gladiolus were having a casual lunch. 

At any rate, Ignis is in love. Or lust. He’s not sure which, but he makes sure to attend every live stream he can, and Ignis _always_ comments on his photos and videos. Tasteful comments, mind you—Ignis couldn’t bring himself to type the smirking emoji with an eggplant, like so many others do. But Prompto takes it all in stride, genuinely thanking everyone for their support and their views. Ignis has also maybe donated anonymously to Prompto’s ko-fi on more than one occasion—but when the blond had asked for support during a brief period of unemployment, Ignis couldn’t help himself. He felt like a sugar daddy, but when Prompto had posted a tearful thank you online, the slimy feelings had melted away instantly. 

If only Ignis were brave enough to actually _do_ something about his crush, instead of jerk off to Prompto’s Instagram profile late at night when he’s alone. 

_______ 

Prompto strums the last chords of the song and pats the wood of his guitar. “So yeah! That was _Vindicated_ by Dashboard Confessional. Thanks so much for tuning in. I’ve been working on another original song of my own, so I think I’ll be ready to debut it for you guys in a couple of days. So long for now!” Prompto hops off the bed and grabs his phone, continuing to smile until he ends his live stream and clicks back to his profile. The hearts and comments on today’s session are already in the hundreds, and Prompto knows that they’ll continue to trickle in over the next few hours—but he’s searching for one username specifically. Prompto finds it after several minutes of scrolling: _firescience22._ Prompto bites his lip as he blushes. He doesn’t know why, but something about this particular guy always makes his heart beat faster. The first several times he’d liked and commented Prompto’s selfies, cat pics, and music videos and streams, Prompto hadn’t bothered to look. He was just another person on the other side of the smartphone. But then, the fangirls (and guys) had gotten ridiculously thirsty— Prompto's turned down a hundred people in his DMs at this point; and something about _firescience22_ ‘s tasteful, grammatically correct comments started to overshadow the rows and rows of eggplant and eye emojis. 

He's left another on-brand comment on the song Prompto’s just finished: _You are truly talented,_ _Prompto_ _. Thank you for sharing your art with us. No matter what you sing, I am moved every time. :smile:_

Prompto clicks the username and his profile pops up—he only has a first name to go on, Ignis, which is listed in the profile. Thankfully it’s public, and most of who he follows are brands or other celebrities—very few actual people. Most of his photos are of beautiful sunsets or sunrises around Insomnia, parks through the different seasons, and food. But...there are a few selfies here and there. The last one was nearly three weeks ago, but it still makes Prompto dizzy. This Ignis guy is _gorgeous_. He's gotta be six feet tall at least, Prompto thinks, and his legs are a mile long, to boot. There was one shirtless selfie over the summer, at what looked to be a private pool—even though it wasn’t a thirst trap post at all, Prompto had still felt light-headed. The guy was _built,_ solid and lean, with emerald eyes that seemed to stare right into his soul. Prompto won’t lie and say he hasn’t jerked off to this random follower before, and he feels guilty every time, but really—when a guy like _that_ gives Prompto even a shred of positive attention? Yeah, he’s gonna take what he can get. 

Still, other than Ignis’ kind, thoughtful comments on his posts, and Prompto’s usual dorky replies of _omg thanks dude ur too nice :heart: :blush:,_ he’s never actually reached out to _firescience22_ in person, through a direct message. Prompto sets his guitar on its stand in the corner and flops back onto the bed, next to Mr. Whiskers, who hasn’t moved since his performance ended. Prompto sighs—he's a little lonely, he has to admit. He hasn’t dated since high school, and that was over two years ago. He tries not to be sad on social media, but he does sing a lot of love songs, and his voice cracks with emotion every now and then, so he knows he’s being super obvious. And he’s sure that the people in his DMs are nice and cool and all, but Prompto doesn’t really feel the urge to even give them a first date. Ignis, on the other hand... 

“Whaddaya think, pretty boy? Should I message this guy?” Prompto scratches behind the giant cat’s ears, causing a rumbling purr to overtake the furry feline. He laughs. “Is that a yes?” Prompto bites his lip, trying to shake off the performance high. “Okay, you’ve convinced me. I’m gonna do it.” 

______ 

Once Prompto’s live stream has ended, Ignis manages to regain his composure; he gets up from his desk and unlocks his office, flicking on the light and cracking the door. He wipes his brow and his neck and chest, mentally cursing himself for getting so worked up over a stranger. He sniffs—damn, he cried. _Again_. Ignis isn’t surprised, because Prompto usually makes him cry, but just once Ignis wishes he could act normal. He sinks back into his plush office chair with a sigh and opens his laptop back up, going back to work on the utterly dull Citadel business. 

Several minutes later, his phone dings a notification. With Gladio and Noctis in training, Ignis wonders who it could be. He sees the little number on the Instagram app, and with a fluttering heart, he opens it. He's got a new message—and Ignis is shaking as he sees who it is. 

_From chocoboyprom1357: Hey man, sorry if this is weird—I'm a weird guy, lol, but maybe you knew that. Anyway! Just wanted to say thanks for your thoughtful comments on my pics and videos, it really means a lot. You’re really nice! It always makes my day when you interact with me. Thanks so much for following._

Ignis’ breath sputters to a halt. He feels his brain slowly ooze out of his ears— _error 404, Ignis.exe has stopped running, would you like to reboot?_ Him. Prompto has messaged _him_. _Privately_. Ignis quickly closes out of the app and turns his phone off, shoving it in his briefcase on the floor. He swallows. What does he even _say_ ? _Hi, I’m in love with you, would fornication be on your list of favorite activities?_ Ignis groans and puts his head in his hands. It's gonna be a long night. 

_______ 

Several days have passed, and there’s still been no reply to the message he’d sent Ignis— _firescience22._ Prompto sighs. He guess it wasn’t meant to be, but even so, he can’t help but feel disappointed. He hadn’t even seen the man comment on his original love song he posted—not even a like. Prompto’s been trying not to cry for days. He should feel stupid—he didn’t even _know_ this guy, so why does it matter whether he comments or not? Prompto even feels tempted to take up one of the offers in his DMs—he'd gotten a few tasteful dick pics, even, so he’s tempted to just jump in bed with a stranger to soothe his bruised ego. Well. Ignis was also a stranger, technically, but Prompto can’t help but feel drawn to him. The way he speaks, the carefully curated Instagram profile...maybe he was being catfished. Or maybe Ignis was just a bot, the actual pictures of a man nothing more than some stock model. Ugh. Leave it to Prompto to get his heart broken by someone who probably wasn’t even real. 

Prompto’s decided to nurse his feelings with coffee and lunch at the Ebony Roasters downtown. He bounces on his feet in line, trying to decide between an Americano with honey or the seasonal Pumpkin Cream Cold Brew. It’s just now Fall, cooler weather starting to make its way into the city. Prompto’s feeling cool in his patched coeurl-print pants, oversize black graphic tee, and his leather jacket and boots. He shoves his hands in his pockets in an attempt to quell his nerves. The line is moving slowly, but Prompto’s off today, so he’s got time to kill. The door chimes with a new patron, and Prompto doesn’t know why, but he turns back to look and see who’s entered the café--and time slows to a trickle. 

Ignis doesn’t realize he’s still holding the door to the coffee shop open to the elements as he stares into the deep violet-blue eyes of Prompto—of _chocoboyprom1357._ He gulps, murmurs apologies to the people brushing past him trying to leave. Ignis snaps his mouth shut and moves to stand behind him. _Him_. He’s _right here_ , in the flesh, in front of him. He’s shorter than Ignis expected, and the size difference does something to his insides. It also doesn’t help that Ignis knows what Prompto’s top half looks like underneath all of those edgy clothes—his mind drifts back to the nipple piercings, and Ignis has never felt so _weak_. 

Prompto snaps his head back forward, shuffling closer to the barista with the movement of the line. He swallows, hoping that Ignis didn’t catch him staring for too long. He feels too hot, suddenly—he's even more gorgeous in person. Prompto laughs to himself—who was he kidding, thinking he even had a chance with this beautiful, refined stranger. From his long designer trench coat to his wrinkle-free fitted suit underneath, he looks like he’s just stepped off the cover of _GQ_. Oh well. Prompto feels proud of himself for trying, anyway. He finally gets to the counter, makes the split-second decision on the pumpkin drink and hot turkey sandwich, and reaches into his wallet when the barista tells him the total. 

“Pardon me,” says the deep, accented voice from behind him. 

Holy balls, Prompto feels like he’s gonna collapse. He feels a shaky, warm hand on his shoulder, and suddenly, he’s overcome with the body heat of the taller man. 

“I’ll have the same,” says Ignis, already putting his smartwatch to the credit card reader to pay. “Ring them up together, please.” 

“Uh,” sputters Prompto. “Dude, you don’t gotta, it’s fine! I can...” 

“My treat,” murmurs Ignis, swallowing audibly. “Do you mind if we have a chat?” 

Prompto shakes his head. He'd follow this guy into a back alley if he asked. “No, uh, that’s fine, I uh...” 

“Thank you,” says the barista, nodding. “Can I have a name for your order?” 

“Fire Science,” says Ignis, with a small smile. 

Prompto looks up at him in awe, realization dawning on his face. Ignis has recognized him. Ignis is _paying_ for his coffee and lunch. Prompto can feel himself blushing, but he can’t help it. He nervously follows Ignis to the end of the bar to wait for their lunch, heart beating in rhythm to the love song in his head. 


End file.
